The road of Healing
by The Leaf 180
Summary: After the death of his wife, Sakumo struggles to take care of the son he never wanted. It takes a good friend to open his eyes to the reality. Can Sakumo learn to let go of the past and show compassion to a child that only wants his love?


The solitary silver orb observes in its perch. High in the sky, it inspects the Hatake compound. Washed in clean moonlight the Hatake household is unaffected by the night. The night is silent.

The dusk seems to hold its breath, the world sleeps. It is almost peaceful to look at. Crisp leaves rolling in the frosty September breeze. Darkness shattered as the house basks in a patch of light.

Untouchable, it seems high and mighty and towering over many small trees in the area. It is a lone house on the edge of the town. Untouched and unnoticed. Overlooked and undermined, but it can't help but stand tall in the night.

The moonlight leads through a broad and slightly fogged window. A man leans against it. His eyes bleary and unseeing. He looks at the crying infant. Its shrill screams pierce the air but he does not hear. His mind is fogged with dull understanding.

He knows nothing, only that she is gone.

The child's broken sobs fill the shatter the almost peaceful scenery. It rings throughout the silence. Sakumo ignores it, making no move to comfort the weeping child. He hadn't wanted this child; she had practically begged him for it until he agreed.

She had promised she'd be there to help him take care of it. What right did this thing have to take her from him? A wail penetrates his thoughts; it is desperate and full of hurt. He didn't want this child. He didn't want the responsibility that came with it.

He hated this child; he hated what had to be lost to find it. It didn't even have a name. It didn't matter, to Sakumo, it would simply be it. It didn't need a name. It was a monster; this was all that thing's fault.

The noise was relentless, it was pleading and confused. He didn't care. That thing took the only one he had to live for. It didn't deserve anything. The screams grow louder, screams of helplessness and neediness and confused pain.

Sakumo lost it. Anger flared in his eyes and blood roars in his ears as he marched over to the crib. The crib she had convinced him to buy. He places both hands on it, it trembles violently under his weight but he doesn't care.

He leans in towards the boy. The child's eyes are round orbs of fear and he whimpers and gasps in exhaustion. He sees her everywhere. He looks just like her. The high cheekbones and the narrow chin. The long nose and the mouth perfectly capable of broadcasting every emotion.

He has inherited the feathery, silver hair and the bleak complicated black eyes. Right now they gaze back in unease and bewilderment. Sakumo glares back in hatred. He didn't need this.

His voice spoken just over a whisper but firm and full of menace.

"It's your fault, you killed her."

The child trembles slightly. He sinks to his knees; his thought echoing through his head. How dare this child. He didn't want it. Rage burns within him. How was he supposed to take care of a kid? He didn't know the first thing about children!

He squeezes his eyes closed because this is all so wrong and this child was going to die and he knew it. He couldn't protect this child; he couldn't help his wife either. They were going to leave him. He knew it, how was he supposed to take care of a child?

He was not cut out for this, he couldn't be a father. He peers at the child in the crib, its heart-broken whimpers softening into shallow breathing. He watches the rhythmic breathing of the child's chest as it cries itself to sleep. He can practically hear his wife screaming at him.

"You're the father!"

"Take care of him!"

"He's your _son_ Sakumo!"

"Do something!"

"Comfort him!"

He knew that if his wife could see him she would scold him. He was just so afraid. He wasn't ready to be a father. What if something happened? He couldn't do it… he tentatively reaches a hand out and caresses the child's cheek. It's soft and tender and so delicate.

He knows this child depends on him; it scares him, to have so much power. The child groggily opens his eyes, his throat raw from screaming and his mind fogged with stress. Sakumo can feel the child's gloomy eyes on him. This child's life was in his hands.

He had to take care of him, he had to protect him. He had to find a way. He looks into those round gray orbs, full of cautious interest and misunderstanding. This child was so innocent. A gentle smile tugs at Sakumo's lips as he traces his hand along the child's fragile face.

The child's eyes follow him silently, in fascination and wonder, and they wander back to him. Man and child's eyes lock, and Sakumo's heart twist at the blind trust in the child's eyes. The eyes begging him love me, help me.

Sakumo heart shatters at the child's pure soul, so open and ready to learn. Were all babies like this? It was a miracle. To know that everyone was once at the same state of helplessness as his son right here.

His son's life was beginning and overwhelming fear over throws Sakumo. There was such a cruel world out there... What if something happened to his son? A short, hand reaches out, and thin, awkward fingers entwine with his own.

Sakumo couldn't control himself as his breath catches. The boy nuzzles his hand, with its soft, baby nose. The baby was so pure and sweet. He needed somewhere safe, a sanctuary. He needed someone to show him how and care for him.

Sakumo didn't know if he could do that, but he knew on that night that he couldn't fail. So much depended on him. His son needed him, and Sakumo knew that he might be able to show this child what love was. He didn't know if he could guide this child through life, but he promised himself he would at least try.

* * *

><p><em>Five years later<em>

Five years had barely gone by and the death of his wife was still raw and stinging, like salt on a wound, rubbing and bleeding more and more every day. The better part of him knew that he should move on, and let her rest in peace. That was impossible for Sakumo.

Every glance at his son was like a painful reminder, grinding against his heart and stabbing deeper with every piercing glare he received from his son. His son was a thinker; he was silent and conscientious and wore a look too old for his age.

He was intelligent and always had something worthwhile to say. He was a deep thinker and his eyes were too cold for a child so young. It saddened Sakumo, more than anything else, he can't help but feel that he should have done a better job as a parent; he should have found a way to love Kakashi.

To show him care and help him grow up the right way. He had decided on the name Kakashi because every child deserves a name, and he can't help but feel like that name had some sort of meaning somewhere in it.

He also thinks that his wife brought it up when they were thinking of names, he remembered laughing at it at the time. She had said that it would work well with his name, because his meant crops, and he had thought she was kidding.

But after she died, the child became Kakashi, and that's what he would be. Sakumo tried to love his son, he just didn't know how. These things were a mystery to the white fang. But seeing his son grow up so cold, he can't help the burning desire, and sadness yearning to save him from whatever made him this way.

He seemed so alone, his lips were always set into a scowl and his eyes were always frozen in a haunted black fog. His eyes were always clouded and he always had his guard up.

Occasionally, a light would return to his eyes and a smile to his lips and it would dance around but they were soon swallowed by the murky black fog that chased away his feelings. Sakumo didn't know what made his son that way, he didn't know if he had anything to do with it, but he refused to think of it as a bad thing.

He simply told himself that his son was thinking hard about something and didn't realize he was frowning. But it was painfully clear to Sakumo; the boy was just like his wife. She had always been followed by the same dark cloud that was targeting Kakashi.

But she had always outshined it, pushed it away and denied it, until it faded and ceased to exist. Because she was a stubborn one and refused to let it control her, because even sorrow was no match for her bright personality.

Perhaps his son had no one to teach him how to be happy, to live life in a positive way, and to block out the despair that held his heart captive. Sakumo was never the man for the job; he was never cut out for something like this. Because the shadow had never followed him, and he never felt its dark energy.

It simply left him alone, and he always had a hard time understanding his wife's constant worry, no matter how many times she tried to explain it to him. Even when the boy was frustrated Sakumo couldn't help but think of how much he looked like her.

It was cute watching his son try to be mad at him, when he was so small and it was hard to take him seriously. And Sakumo would tentatively ruffle the boy's feathery hair, and watch the flare of annoyance in his gaze. And watch the boy storm off, his gentle smile fading and replaced with unhappiness and misery.

He knew he should go comfort his son, find something to say, forbid him from locking himself up in his own distress. But Sakumo never found the right words, never knew just how to tell his son how he felt. And they grew up that way, forever separated by a single wall.

An invisible wall of misunderstanding, separating father from child. When all Sakumo wanted was to reach his son again, to let him know he'd be there, even if he was never good at these kinds of things.

* * *

><p>Sakumo barged into his son's room. He saw his son look up in surprise from the book he was reading. He saw the boys surprise and hesitant curiosity, flicker and linger in his eyes. The boy moved to jump off of the bed, but Sakumo got there first.<p>

He saw the confusion in the boy's eyes as he glared at Sakumo. Waiting for him to start. The kid never was a talker. With a faint growl, he shoved the black cloth in his hand towards the boy. It softly landed on the bed, and the boy looked at it blankly.

He glanced back up at Sakumo, scorn hidden in the depths of his hard black gaze. "What is it?"

Sakumo sneered at his son, what did it look like? A nagging part of his mind told him to leave Kakashi alone, and just go into his room. Maybe he wasn't thinking as straight as he could, and maybe his breath smelled a little like alcohol, and maybe his vision was swaying a little.

But that wasn't his fault; it was the anniversary, after all. He couldn't help himself, so maybe he had a couple drinks, he wasn't completely drunk. He knew what he was doing.

"It's a mask."

The boy eyed him. Sakumo could feel the boy's cold gaze burning into him, but he wouldn't let this boy intimidate him. He knew what he was doing. He was the adult in this situation; he was the one that was in control. Kakashi would obey him, he was his father, and he was supposed to know what was best…. Right?

A quiet remark dragged him out of his thoughts. "….And?"

Sakumo could feel his frustration rising. Stop playing around! Get to the point! What were you supposed to do with a mask? Wear it! He didn't know his son was an idiot, unless he was just playing stupid. Then Sakumo just wished he'd be serious and take him seriously.

He glowered at the boy. "You're going to wear it."

He could feel the confusion and sarcasm behind his son's eyes as he glared at him. They stared at each other, each with their own version of the same icy glare.

Kakashi's eyes shone in defiance. "No."

Sakumo could feel his frustration rising. His voice was laced with malice as he patronized the boy. "Yes you are."

The light of anger shone in Kakashi's eyes as he stubbornly faced his father. He heard a growl rumbling at the back of his throat, but he swallowed it back, trying to prevent it from poisoning his words.

Kakashi eyes flared as his voice grew in volume. "No! I don't want to!"

Sakumo could hear the tension in the room escalate to a dangerous level and it seemed to crackle with energy.

He could hear his son's voice rise with every word and he couldn't stop his voice from increasing to match his son's anger. "You will listen to me!"

He could feel the hysteria rising and he began to feel light headed. The room suddenly became too bright and his limbs became heavier and harder to move and control. He grit his teeth together and anger bubbled up from within him and spilled into his voice.

But Kakashi spoke first, matching Sakumo's frustration, however unlike Sakumo; his eyes were narrowed into slits with unease and anger. "No, I won't! You can't make me!"

Sakumo was unaware of what exactly he had done. Anger binding him and setting a red haze on his vision. But his let his fiery emotions take control and he slapped his son, anger fueling him and no restraint on his power. A loud crack! And a large red mark glared back at him from the boy's face.

He could see tears welling up from the boy's eyes, wide with unimaginable fear. But Kakashi tried to hold them back as he continued to stare at the man before him.

"What do they teach you in the academy? Shinobi never show emotion! And they also listen to their superiors, and never question orders! Don't come out until you understand that!" He spat the lasts words viciously, making sure his son understood.

With that, Sakumo left the room fuming. He knows that what he had done was wrong. But it wouldn't have happened if _she_ had been there. Instead of the brat that took her place.

If she was there, life would be perfect and everything would have been how it should. Things would have been better and they would have lived the life he had wanted, where there were no one to ruin it and nothing to ever take her away from him again.

They would be living the life he always dreamed they would. And he would have been happy. But now, he is filled with guilt and foreign rage and an emotion he couldn't place a label on just yet.

He shoved it away and told himself that he should feel nothing towards that boy, and whatever this feeling was, it definitely wasn't guilt.

* * *

><p><em>Two days later<em>

Jiraiya rapidly rapped his knuckles against the door for the ninth time that morning. He was getting impatient, and he had been waiting outside the Hatake compound for an hour, and no one answered the door yet.

He was determined to see his friend today, this was the last week he would be in Konoha, and the local gossip was enough to get him worrying for his friend's well-being. He didn't know where little Kakashi was, but he knew that Sakumo should be home.

He had heard from another shinobi that Sakumo was feeling down after losing the last of his genin team, and Jiraiya had a firm resolve to help his friend cheer up. He had been out of town for a while, but he had been near the village and decided to pay them a visit.

He always liked to catch up with old friends and getting refreshed on the situation. It always helped him to pop up and see everyone again, and he was sure that he could make Sakumo lighten up with a surprise like this.

It was just the thing for him in fact; they hadn't seen each other in so long. It would be a good thing for his friend; in fact, it was the perfect thing for him. He let out an edgy sigh and prepared to subject the door to another round of relentless knocking when it swung open.

Standing in the door way was Sakumo, looking a little worse for the wear and more tired than Jiraiya had seen him in a long time. In fact, he hadn't seen his friend this down since his wife died.

His eyes were creased with weary lines and his eyes were dulled and flat. His hair was sticking up in places and he seemed to move sluggishly, unmotivated. His eyes flashed in slow recognition and he lazily moved to the side to allow Jiraiya entrance into his home.

Jiraiya accepted the offer, casting a cautious glance at his friend as he warily walked into the house. It was dark and gloomy, and in desperate need for a good dusting. From what Jiraiya could see, nothing looked like it had been touched in a while.

The shades were partially open, and a weak ray of sunlight was peering through the window from behind the tree that had recently decided to start growing there.

Jiraiya sighed; Sakumo's genin team wasn't going to be the last team to die out there, so why didn't he get his act together and get out there so he could _save_ lives? Moping around the house was pointless when Konoha needed him.

Didn't Sakumo think he was being a bit melodramatic? Sakumo led the white haired man further into the living room and motioned for him to sit down as he pulled up a chair for himself.

They sat awkwardly for a few minutes, Sakumo content with the silence and waiting for Jiraiya to begin, Jiraiya not sure how to start, searching for the words. Sakumo sat with his elbows on the table and his hands crossed in front of his mouth, a faraway look in his eyes.

Jiraiya kept his eyes downcast, racking his brain for a way to break the stony silence without coming off too brash. He finally settles for getting right to the point, he sighs and draws his attention back to his friend.

His steady gaze bore into the white fang. "Things are really starting to heat up."

He was talking about the war of course, the Iwa Nin had become aggressive lately and if Konoha wasn't careful, they would find themselves in deep trouble. It was something only the Hokage and the superiors of the village knew about, and Jiraiya assumed that Sakumo had already been informed.

He kept his voice low just in case Kakashi was listening. He hadn't seen the boy since he arrived, and he made a mental note to ask about him. He waited for the man in front of him to react to his words.

Eventually growing frustrated at his continuing silence, Jiraiya growled to gather his friend's attention. Sakumo seemed to snap back to reality and focused his bleak eyes back onto the future Sannin.

He seemed to realize that Jiraiya had spoken, and let out an uncommitted grunt in response. Jiraiya let out another exasperated sigh and decided to get to the point of his visit.

"Hey Sakumo," The man didn't reply. Jiraiya said his name louder.

He managed to rein the man's awareness and made sure the man had noticed him before continuing. "You okay? You seem sort of… out of it…"

He kept Sakumo trapped in his gaze until he was sure that the man had heard him. Sakumo sighed, and mumbled something incomprehensible into his hand. The Toad sage leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. Sakumo knew what the gesture meant, and he lowered his hands to the table.

He refused to meet Jiraiya's eyes, choosing to glower at the floor instead. "I'm fine okay? Just got some things on my mind."

The White Fang's voice seemed out of tune and gravely. Sakumo was aware of that and he cleared his throat self-consciously, frowning at the ground. Jiraiya, waited for him to elaborate, and when the man remained silent, Jiraiya decided to get as much information as he could.

His fists curled in annoyance in the man's refusal to give him a straight answer. "You can talk to me you know, I understand what you're going through."

Sakumo's eyebrows furrowed and he jerked his head up abruptly to stare at the future Sannin with sharper eyes than he had a moment ago. Jiraiya saw him clench his teeth and his frown twitched deeper and his lips were pursed tighter.

The men had a stare off until Sakumo lowered his gaze. Rage and grief battling in his eyes. He seemed about ready to burst.

Jiraiya looked him square in the eye. "Let it out, you need to talk about it."

Sakumo said nothing, only grimacing, telling Jiraiya that his friend had at least acknowledged his words. He sighed and balled his hands into fist, squinting his eyes and scowling.

His voice started out as a low rumble that Jiraiya had to strain to hear, but Sakumo gained volume as his voice picked up speed. "Tadao is actually dead, I was his sensei, I should have saved him! It was my fault! I was responsible for him! If I had been better, if I had only gotten there faster! What was I doing? He needed me and I wasn't there for him! I'm never there when I need to be! I was so proud of them, when they passed the chuunin exams… I remember the looks on their faces… they were so sweet back then. But that didn't stop anything! I try so hard and he's still dead! If only I had been a better sensei! If only I wasn't so caught up in the past….."

Jiraiya listened to the man rant. He kept his steady eyes on his friend and absorbed all the information that was thrown at him. He nodded slowly, He'd known was it was like, those children were sent to you and you had their lives in your hands, you were there to protect them. They were so easy, and ready to learn, but to lose all three of them…

Jiraiya was an accomplished sensei, his only remaining student earning a name for himself as "The Yellow Flash" But he'd had his share of the grief, having failed his other two students.

He'd known that Sakumo had like to maintain a strong bond with his students and he'd met Tadao a few times too. He seemed like a sweet boy and awfully tolerant too. It was a shame that he died so soon.

Jiraiya gave a curt nod to show he understood, Sakumo caught the action, however and started right back up again.

"You think you know all about it don't you! You think you understand! No one understands! Do you know what that day was, the day I neglected to protect my last student? It was also the day of _her _death! I was so swallowed up in my own pain that I couldn't even protect the last thing precious to me! I was so caught up in memories that now I can just add another name to the list! Now I can just have another reason to feel guilty!" he took a deep breath and let out a breathless laugh.

Jiraiya narrowed his eyes in concern for the man's well-being.

"And I call myself a sensei? How can I call myself that and know that I let him die! It's all my fault! I feel disgusted! How can I live with myself when I know that I can't save anyone? How can I go on when I know that everyone else is just going to die too? And I know that it will be my own fault! Mine alone, because I won't be good enough! I'm never good enough! It's never enough! I can try so hard and fall short every time because I can't do it!"

Sakumo seemed breathless after his outburst. He took deep, heaving breathes, and blinked a few times to clear his clouding eyes, a sloppy, almost grin plastered on his face.

Studying him, Jiraiya came to the conclusion that if Sakumo hadn't lost his mind already, he certainly looked crazy. Sakumo let out a final breath, and as it wafted up near Jiraiya, it was finally clear to him.

He crinkled his nose in revulsion as he identified the pungent smell on the man's breath. Looking at his friend in worry, he saw that he was right; Sakumo was tottering in his seat and only confirmed Jiraiya's suspicions.

He sighed and addressed the situation. "You've been drinking."

Sakumo's fogged eyes snapped back, and he concentrated on what the Toad Sage was saying. After the words reached The White Fang, He refused to meet Jiraiya's gaze, and settled at fixing his fierce glare on his feet.

He gave a pointed shake of the head, but it was useless. He looked like a child caught lying. Pushing aside the dread growing in the pit of his stomach, he took a deep breath to steady his stressed mind.

He closed his eyes to shove back a growing headache, and put his effort into his friend once again. "It's obvious, Sakumo, You've got to stop this."

The white haired man hissed below his breath, and contorted his face into a grimace. An attempt at false comfort. "It's fine Jiraiya, Its nothing, just a couple of drinks, s'all"

Jiraiya sneered at the man. "Sakumo, this is a problem, you can't do this to yourself."

Sakumo's eyes flared up at the comments he let the rage drip into his voice as he lashed out with a vicious retort. "It's not a problem!"

Unaware that he had raised his voice, he bit his tongue to steady his wavering view. Jiraiya calmly watched the man try to collect himself, his mind threatening to drown in anxiety.

He put a hand up to knead the bridge of his nose, his eyes screwed up in infuriation. "What about Kakashi?"

He watched Sakumo's eyes flash strangely and turn hard and unwelcoming. "What about the boy?" he snarled.

Jiraiya inspected the man before him in unease. What did Sakumo think he was talking about? He tried to keep his voice level as he fought off the urge to choke his friend. "You don't think this will affect him? He's your _son_, Sakumo!"

Sakumo flinched at the words. They were exactly what he had imagined his wife saying to him. The harsh words rang again in his head_ He's your son, Sakumo!_

He furrowed his brow in distaste and was unable to prevent the spite from dripping into his words. "See if I care, that boy is _not _my son."

Jiraiya's eyes widened in fury, Of course he was Sakumo's son! How dare his friend disown the boy! How dare he endanger his son as he gets drunk! The boy needed him! He depended on him, How dare he put himself above his son, the boy's well-being was just as important!

He faced the man before him, his words the cold and honest truth. "You should be ashamed of yourself, that's disgusting, and selfish, you really are a heartless bastard, aren't you?"

Sakumo's eyes dropped and changed, they now held a dangerous gleam to them. "If what you say is true, Jiraiya, then the boy is my responsibility." He spat bitterly.

The toad sage growled in aggravation. There was no way Sakumo could manage to take care of a child if he couldn't even take care of himself. "Where is he Sakumo?"

Sakumo's lips tightened and he shrugged lightly. "I don't know, around…"

Jiraiya kneaded his knuckles against the bridge of his nose as things got complicated. He came here for a simple visit, and he wasn't expecting this. Just one death had thrown Sakumo this far off?

Sakumo needed to cooperate with him. Jiraiya needed to help him before things got any worse. And he was worried for the young boy. How was he managing when he couldn't rely on his own father to take care of him?

That was Sakumo's responsibility, that's what he agreed to when he became a father. There was no way he could abandon the child now, nor could he blame him for past mistakes and things that he had no control over.

Sakumo was taking out the agony of his wife's death on his son, and that wasn't fair, Kakashi had nothing to do with it. Sakumo needed to see that.

Jiraiya's voice left no room for argument. "Bring him here."

Sakumo shot him a dark glare to show that he did not appreciate being ordered around. He quickly averted his gaze and let out a loud command. "Get down here, boy!"

Jiraiya winced at the volume inwardly. Was his friend always this rough with the boy? Sakumo wasn't fit to be a father. This wasn't right. It was clear that Sakumo couldn't take care of the boy. He couldn't even love the boy properly.

He heard a door creak open slowly and heard the faint sound of footsteps dance down the hallway. What he saw made his heart constrict painfully. The boy had grown since Jiraiya had last seen him, but he was still small.

The most noticeable feature was the black mask that hid most of his face, only leaving room to see. It looked out of place on the young boy and Jiraiya could only wonder about how the mask came to be.

He had unruly silver hair and beady eyes. Trying to look blank, but Jiraiya could distinguish fear and uncertainty in their depths. The toad sage didn't know what he was afraid of until he spied a dark bruise peeking over the edge of the mask that he wore.

The future Sannin gasped softly, Sakumo had taken to child abuse? If there was something Jiraiya could not stand, that was it. He was a very tolerant guy but he would not stand by and let a child suffer.

It looked painful, and Jiraiya wondered how much of the boy's face was discolored, he could only guess for the cloth covering the boy's face covered most of it. He wished for the boy's sake that that was the worst injury. Jiraiya hoped it wasn't that bad for the child's sake.

Kakashi gazed at the two, refusing to meet his father's piercing glare, choosing instead to look at Jiraiya with guarded curiosity. Jiraiya's heart twists at the scene, the boy looked so small and alone, and he hated Sakumo more than ever for making the boy like that.

He noticed his friend's hard glare on the boy, unnerving and full of loathing. Jiraiya is once again filled with deep distrust as he notices the boy casting wary glances in his father's direction. Kakashi gazes at Jiraiya under a wall of awkwardness and discomfort.

His eyes flicker and the future Sannin can see the boy deciding whether to question his prescreens here, or to leave it be. Jiraiya can see the boy glancing timidly, over to his father, as if looking for permission.

After the extended silence, with his impatience growing by the second, Jiraiya concludes that he must break the steady silence that has held the room captive. Clearing his throat and making the boy jump, he directs his question to Sakumo.

He speaks softly, but the quiet anger quaking in his voice is enough evidence that the Sannin is barely holding himself back. "Child abuse Sakumo?" his voice is barely over a whisper, yet it hangs heavily in the air and fades in his friend's ears.

The question demands an answer, and the white fang does not try to avoid it, he does not deny it, but responds with a faint shrug. It enough of an answer to set Jiraiya's minds reeling and his anger enlarging.

He can feel the tension in the room climb to an unbearable level, thick with mistrust and suspicion. . He does not attempt to calm himself. "This is unacceptable."

Misgivings are swamping Sakumo as the toad sage's emotions take control. Sakumo's eyes lower and he seems to know that he is no match for the Sannin. He was said to be of their level, but both of them know all too well that Sakumo hadn't been that serious in a while, and he was past his prime.

He decides to take the easy way out, avoiding the matter altogether and running away from his responsibility. He seemed to be doing that a lot now. But he couldn't face it. He couldn't handle what he had let himself become. He had sunken so low. But this was not rock bottom. It would always get worse.

Both of them know that. Both of them are resisting the fighting spirit they both own from taking over. He sees the boy cautiously back away in the direction of his room from the corner of his eye as he seems to take notice of the fiery temperament that has heated the room up to an unpredictable level.

The rise in anger in both the men is a time bomb waiting to explode. Kakashi does not know how long things will remain at a cold, quiet level. He wishes to leave. He does not want to see his unstable father go up against the toad sage. He knows his father has no hope of winning.

He does not want to see thing he shouldn't, or know things he never wanted to know. He wants things to ruin even farther; he does not want to see things that should remain unseen. He wishes he had never come downstairs.

He does not want to see things get ugly; he wants to escape to his room, and cry, because things were so wrong. But his father had commanded him not to cry, ad those were Kakashi's rules. And he had to live by them, for he was not allowed downstairs until he was ready to hide away his emotions.

But now he was here, and he was never allowed to cry, ever again. His throat gets tight and his eyes widen in fear that he desperately tried to hide and failed miserably. Because his father told him it was unfit for a shinobi to feel anything.

Jiraiya takes notice of this and decides he needs to take control of the situation. Rage flooded through his veins, and emotions dancing through his eyes, he takes a breath and attempts to shoves it all back. He opens his eyes to a still bristling Sakumo and a timid Kakashi.

Sighing at the scene, he decides he has done enough damage. He leans forward one last time and locks the white fang in his gaze. His voice was strong and low as he made it clear that this was the final warning.

He stood rigidly, his lips set in a tight frown and his eyes narrowed in sharp annoyance. "You have got to stop this. If you don't shape up, I'll have the child taken away. You can't take care of him properly, that's for sure."

He watches for his friend's reaction. Sakumo's eyes had glazed over once more and Jiraiya tracks his movements. He can see the man before him absorb his words, ever so slowly, letting it sink in, and his eyes flashed mysteriously and then died out.

He seemed at a loss for words. "You…" He sighed. "What can I do about it?" he muttered.

Jiraiya sighed, finally it seemed that he was getting through his friends thick skull. He thought for a moment, and then suddenly an idea came to him.

His face brightened considerable and visibly and he allowed a knowing grin to replace his previous frown. "You could always… hand him over to me for a few days…"

Sakumo rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to give you my son so you can pick up dates."

Jiraiya chuckles softly, the thick tension in the room lessoning but not completely gone. "That's not what I meant…"

Sakumo narrows his eyes and cocked his head to show that he was listening.

Jiraiya took this as an improvement and continued with what was on his mind. "What I meant was, well, I have this student… I'm sure you've heard of him. He's known as the yellow flash these days."

Jiraiya cleared his throat. "But where I'm going with this is, well he's in need of a student and I'm sure your kid could do nicely. Minato could just teach him the basics and see where it goes; he needs all the experience he can get." _Especially with war on the horizon_.

Sakumo thought about it for a while. The silence spread throughout the room. Kakashi had sensed the tightness in the air lessen, and he took that as an indication that he could leave.

Jiraiya noticed him slither back up to his room out of the corner of his eye, seeing that he was no longer needed. The toad sage smirked to himself inwardly.

Sakumo broke out of his deep feelings with a thoughtful nod. He then grinned almost unnoticeably once more, out of his trance. He nodded briskly. "Alright."

The future Sannin smiled wider. He felt he could wrap this conversation up nicely now. He was a sucker for happy endings. "So drop by someday, and we'll see how this will work out."

He was almost about to add, "And we could go get a drink or two". But thought better of it, wanting to leave on a good note. He then stood up, his chair scraping against the floor and proceeded to make his exit when a few words caught him on the way out.

"Thank you for this, Jiraiya."

The toad sage couldn't say he was shocked to hear his friend's form of gratitude, but it did warm him to know that his friend was listening to his heartfelt speech. He answered in a thumbs up sign. Because that's what friends are for right? It spoke for itself.

He smirked on his way out, hopefully now things would look up for his friends and for the boy.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

><p><em>A week later<em>

He could feel the eyes on him as he walked down the streets. Life was looking up. His friend was right. He got outside more, shaped himself up. And he was feeling a lot better.

Pushed it all behind him, and now he couldn't really sympathize with how worked up he had gotten. He was out of line, and that put his son in danger. Sakumo was ready for improvement.

His son trailing behind him. The eyes continued to follow him, seeing him outside in public was proof that he had not gone crazy. The Hatake duo was currently on their way to where the infamous yellow flash, supposedly lived.

He had taken Jiraiya's advice and decided to let Kakashi have a mentor. He knew his son would go far, because he was already excelling in the academy. Sakumo couldn't wait to see what accomplishes his son would achieve in the future.

Feeling the stares on his back, he desperately tried to ignore them, even though most of them were from friends. He couldn't say he enjoyed it; he was never one to be the center of attention.

Despite his fame around the village, he was very modest. He didn't know what Kakashi thought of it, he hoped the boy would remember his place. Even through the tough charade he had put on ever since his wife died. Sakumo Hatake was a kind man deep down in his heart, everyone who knew him thought the same.

He was gentle and he was compassionate. He was the kind of man who was hard and menacing to look at but deep inside he was an honest soul. He was a bit shy and reserved and he would never boast.

He never wanted to be the best, he never wanted his reputation, and he never wanted all the attention he was getting. But it all came and found him. He smiled slightly as he caught a group of woman blushing and giggling in a corner.

He never wanted this kind of attention. Not after his wife. He didn't have the heart to ignore them; he gave them a sly, crooked grin and a short, curt wave. They blushed madly and jabbered in high pitcher chattering that only another woman would understand. He thinks they're all crazy. Why they liked him so much, he had no clue. It didn't matter.

He kept walking as the noise of his fan girls faded in the distance, smiling to himself all the while.

His son eyed him. "I don't know why you play with them like that, Father."

Sakumo smiled down on his son. He slowed his pace, letting his son take the lead, and focused on his son's silver head. His smile widened. Sakumo had that genuine smile that caused women's hearts to flutter and plenty of men to look on in jealousy.

He had a hardy smile that lit up his whole face and twinkled in his eyes. Where ever Sakumo was, there was always a spark in his eyes. It never died out.

"Plenty of girls will be chasing you too as your older, just you wait."

His satisfaction grew as he heard his son's _Hmp! _Of disapproval. He couldn't wait to see how his son reacted when he got to that age. Girls would be swarming all over him. Plenty of older ones already fawned over him. It was amusing to Sakumo.

He had had to deal with the same thing when he was younger. Now all he heard was,

"Oh he's so cute!"

"Is he yours?"

"He looks just like you!"

And occasionally, for those who knew the father.

"Maybe he'll grow up just like you too"

"Well he definitely got the looks from you."

"Afraid he might outshine you, eh Sakumo?"

Sakumo would just laugh good naturally and go along with it. He noticed something else about him. Whenever he laughed, people just seemed happier. Sometimes they would crack a weak grin, or sometimes it would be a half-hearted chuckle.

Sometimes they would shine a full smile, or laugh along. His mother had told him he had a warm laugh. She had said it was comforting. Sakumo had that deep warm-hearted laugh that rumbled from the bottom of his heart and spilled out into the air and lighten the mood and put everything at ease.

There was never tension when Sakumo was around, and when he laughed, all the heavy stillness in the air was taken off. He knew when to be serious, of course. But Sakumo had a funny sense of humor.

The Hokage was not too happy when he walked in on a laughing room of shinobi that were supposed to be serious because the meeting. They were supposed to be discussing war strategies. It had taken a while to calm everyone down.

Sakumo was well aware of the Hokage's glare directed on him for the remainder of the meeting. But he knew the Hokage couldn't have been that mad, he knew the man would rather see him like this than how he was after his wife had died. He just couldn't help himself.

Looking back, Sakumo couldn't even remember what was so funny. Something had told him to laugh, so he did. Another thing his mother had taught him, always listen to your instinct. It will tell you what to do when the time is right, let your heart be your guide for it will never lead you wrong.

Sakumo was the kind of person who acted on impulse. Most of the time it was for the best, and it always worked out in the end. His heart never led him wrong, his instinct was never wrong. Sakumo stood by what he believed was right.

Little did he know that in the end, it would only lead to his downfall. Sakumo never regretted anything, he made the right decision, and he knew it. That was all that mattered. If others didn't believe in him, and if they doubted him and had no faith in his actions, that was their choice.

Sakumo never made a mistake, never a step backward, never a thing out of place. He knew where he belonged, and he knew what to do when the time was right. If others couldn't see that, then he knew it would be because of their own short comings.

He knew what he was doing, and if others couldn't, he couldn't blame them. Someday they would all understand, and maybe even respect him for it. Someday they would forgive him and truly see what he saw. And when they did, it would change them, for the better he believed. If only they could try.

Then they would see it, and they would know what was really going on. But they did nothing. Sakumo' teachings were passed down to his son, the only one who seemed to listen. Sakumo knew that if Kakashi could carry on his legacy, he would be the best shinobi Konoha had ever seen.

Kakashi would be great. Kakashi would be like no other, because no other had had a father like him.


End file.
